


Let the Rain Fall Down

by cadey (haekass)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/M, M/M, mentioned previous Sirius/Remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 23:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19778806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haekass/pseuds/cadey
Summary: Let the rain fall down/ And awake my dreams/ Let it wash away/ My sanity/ 'Cause I wanna feel the thunder/ I wanna scream/ Let the rain fall down/ I'm coming clean





	Let the Rain Fall Down

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the lyrics of Hilary Duff's Come Clean. In fact, the entire piece is inspired by that song. Takes place during the summer before Seventh Year.
> 
> //
> 
> Reposting from the Unfortunate Orphaning.

The rain kept falling and falling, and it took all of his strength to not just break down and bawl like a baby. The rain hit the panes of glass with a soft sound and rolled down silently. What was he doing, even watching the rain? He probably had other, better, more important things to be doing other than watching Nature spray a gentle rain. But like so many other things in his life, he just couldn't turn away from the sight. Swallowing hard, he curled his hands into fists, feeling his nails bite into the flesh of his palm. He couldn't cry. Harry needed him to be strong. But it was so hard to be strong when his pillar of strength was gone, never to be seen or heard from again. Sirius was everything to him - a friend, a brother, a lover. Everything was suddenly gone and he was left alone once again. Harry was blaming himself and it was taking every ounce of strength that Remus could find (and then gather some more from somewhere deep inside) to keep Harry from sinking completely into a pit of despair.

But that strength couldn't save him. He often preferred to stay up at night, roaming the house, making sure that everyone inside was safe from the demons that haunted him. He only slept when he was so exhausted that he couldn't smell the Dreamless Draught Molly gave him every night in his evening tea. If he tried to fall asleep without it, he shook his head. Best not to think about how he could wake everyone in the house with his nightmares.

The rain kept falling.

The wolf within him was clawing and pawing at the cage, demanding to be out in the rain so he could howl to the first quarter moon of his despair. There was no word for what Sirius meant to the wolf - nothing that would be intelligible at least.

The wind picked up a bit and the drops of water hit the window pane a little louder. And before he knew it, he was out of his chair and halfway through the kitchen before he realized what he was doing. He halted for a moment, unsure as to this course of action, but the wolf - the wolf needed the release. Dammit, he did, too. He was bleeding so heavily from his heart, from his soul, it was a wonder he was still alive. Nearly dashing the rest of the length of the kitchen, he flung the door open, grateful that there were Silencing Charms on all of the windows. Hitting the wet grass at a run, he almost - almost - wished that the moon was full. He would welcome the physical pain the transformation brought, welcome the abandon for a night. He got halfway into the yard when he fell to his knees.

His face lifted to the sky and a broken howl that almost sounded like Sirius' name came from deep within. The tears were falling now, fast and furious, almost as if they were trying to keep up with the rain that was soaking him. He howled again, crying out his anguish. His nails were now so far into his palms that he was drawing blood, but the small pain didn't stop him. It was the larger pain in his soul that consumed him. Howling to the absent moon, he told the night of his loss.

When she appeared, his throat was already cracking with the strain. He never noticed her trek from the kitchen door to where he knelt in the grass, but he did notice when her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Her warm weight was a shock to his system. She was crying, too, he noticed. The soft shake of her arms and the hitch in her breath robbed him of his tears. She was so young, so innocent, she shouldn't be crying this hard for him.

"Hermione," he called softly, just enough to be heard over their sobbing and the rain.

She looked up, her soft brown eyes wide open, the tears spilling out. She released one arm from around him to wipe at her face. "I'm sorry, Prof- Remus. I-"

He shushed her, the way his name fell from her lips a bizarre thrill. "It's okay," he said softly.

"No, it's not. You're hurting so badly."

His lips lifted in a sardonic twist. "I'm all right."

"No, you're not!" She twisted around him, her legs straddling his. She framed his face in her hands, then trailed them down to clasp at the base of his neck. Pulling him close, it took him a moment to realize that not only was she hugging him, but that she had also developed quite a bit from when he taught her. _Of course she developed, you old fool. She's seventeen now. Did you really expect her to stay thirteen forever?_ Wrapping his arms around her waist, he set his head where her neck and shoulder met and allowed the rest of the tears within him fall. She was still warm, no doubt having just gotten out of bed - a lovely young woman in his arms. He was attracted to girls as well, but it was still a shock to find himself hardening at the innocent press of her breasts against his chest. Dropping his arms, he tried to pull back, embarrassed.

Her hands didn't move. She kept him where he was, where she was. When she looked up at him again, her eyes weren't nearly so innocent. They were wise beyond their years and the hurt was so clearly spelled out in them, he wanted to just take a wand and Obliviate her to take the hurt away. But that would be cheapening her role. She held their eye contact for a long moment before speaking. "Will you let me take a little bit of the hurt away?"

His breath caught. Was she really asking what he thought she was asking? Her hips moved forward, pressing her very intimately against him. "Remus, please. Accept what I offer freely. Neither Harry nor Ron will, I've already asked. But the truth is... I need to take the hurt away from myself as well."

His eyes closed. _Sirius, would you - could you understand? I still love you. Love you with every breath I take, but I just need the hurt to stop for a little bit. I need to feel alive again. Hermione needs it as well._ The rain dampened his sense of smell a bit, but not enough to where he was unaware of everything. He could smell Hermione - the fresh, clean scent she always carried peaking a bit with the scent of her sudden arousal. His hands found her ankles and moved straight up to her hips. Gripping her hips gently, he opened his eyes, prepared to speak, but Hermione always was a very clever witch, and read the glinting of yellow in his eyes correctly.

She framed his face again and brought her lips down to meet his. The first taste of her was a shock to his system, which had been without for so long now. Greedily taking, he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, one of his hands pressing her even closer to him. The thin cotton nightgown she wore to bed was completely soaked with the rain and hid nothing from him. Breaking off their kiss, he looked around the yard, already knowing that there was a small greenhouse off to his left. He didn't want her to be getting sick from this healing in the rain. Lifting her hips a bit in a silent demand to stand, he rose off his knees as soon as her weight was off them. Taking her hand, he led her to the greenhouse, a place where they wouldn't be disturbed, and most importantly of all, where they would be out of the chilling rain.

As soon as the door shut behind them, he pulled her close and fastened his mouth to hers. Running his hands up and down her arms, he willed her shivers away, for some of his abnormally high body heat to be transferred to her. Pulling her deeper into the greenhouse, he found a soft blanket for them to spread out on the ground. With the both of them working together, they had the blanket spread out in front of the tomatoes, and with some silent communication, they both began to shed their clothing. Hermione slipped the straps of her nightgown down her arms and pushed the wet cloth down to the floor. Remus threw his shirt off to the side, not caring where it landed, and pushed his trousers down with a little difficulty. Kneeling on the blanket, they met in the middle, their lips met again, their hands beginning to explore.

It had been quite a while since he'd had a woman in his arms, and he spent a few moments reacquainting himself with the different bits they possessed. Hermione's breasts were full and round, a near perfect fit for his hands, the nipples already hard against his palm. Teasing them a bit with his thumbnails, he heard her soft moan over the steady tapping of the rain. The gentle flare of her hips was another pleasant surprise for him, the soft curves a startling contrast to the sharp planes he was so used to. His hand reached in between her thighs to feel the roiling heat coming from her center. Running a finger along her, some part of his brain amusedly took notice that she was about as wet there as her hair was. Her hands weren't idle - they were running down his back to his hips, then over them and up his chest. She paused every moment or so to softly touch an old, raised scar. It didn't frighten him - she knew exactly what he was, what those scars were from. If her mouth wasn't occupied with his shoulder and some scars there, he had no doubt that she would try to kiss every single scar better.

His head lifted to the sky as one of her hands dropped to wrap itself around his erection. His eyes closed blissfully. It had been so damn long since he had felt a touch like that. It was soft, gentle, exploring. His mind, if it hadn't been filled with Hermione, might have conjured images of when Sirius did that. But it didn't, and in some strange way, he was relieved. Maybe Padfoot did understand.

When her hand took up a rhythm and his hips started to faithfully follow, he knew it was time. Grabbing her face a bit roughly, he kissed her hard. "Trust me," he whispered.

Her breath hitched a bit, but she nodded. She trusted that the wolf wouldn't hurt her, that he would keep the wolf tame for a bit, just enough to get her through the initial pain. Turning her around so that her back faced him, he slid behind her, his arms wrapping around her stomach. Tiny fluttering touches around her hips, between her legs, and her head was back on his shoulder, her soft moans giving him all the reassurance that he needed. Guiding her to rest on her hands, he spread her legs, letting her get used to the odd position first before he dared to touch her. Kissing a random path on her back, he felt her relaxing, opening up just a bit more.

Guiding himself to the wet heat, he pushed as gently as he could inside. Unused to the intrusion, Hermione stiffened below him and around him, making him want to whimper like a newborn cub. "Relax," he breathed against the skin of her back. He massaged her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, until she relaxed enough for him to push in further.

Once he was in her fully, he rested his head against her shoulder. "So good," he breathed into her ear. She was shaking, but not from her tears, not anymore. The pain was past, and all she wanted now was pleasure. She moved forward a bit, then back, her breath catching at the friction. He moaned and pulled back, thrusting back into her.

Hermione moaned a little, her hands curling into the blanket. "Show me, Remus. Show me how alive I can be."

The dam broke within him, and the wolf was released. Pulling back, thrusting in, it was all a haze of pleasure, one that he was blissfully sharing with her. When she pitched forward, resting on her elbows, and he went in deeper, they both cried out their pleasure. It was a simple matter for him to find her clit and rub it gently, trying to make her fall off the edge first. Her body went wild around him at the first touch, and it took only another stroke for her to come. She screamed his name into the blanket, and his back arched, a howl coming from both him and the wolf. His nails dug little crescents into the soft skin of her hips as his mind nearly exploded with pleasure. Falling forward, he panted hard against her shoulder, having enough presence of mind to rub her stomach in firm circles, letting her ride out the aftershocks of her orgasm. Curling up on his side, he slid out of her, and pulled her close, knowing that when she was ready, they would redress and leave the greenhouse.

They stayed there for nearly an hour, sharing no words, but an economy of soft touches and kisses to cooling skin. When she pulled away a bit, he let her go, feeling no rejection, but instead a soft numbing of his internal pain. They redressed and folded the blanket, straightening the greenhouse. They walked back up to the house with her hand around his waist and his around her shoulder through the still falling rain. He made as if to part from her when they reached the porch, but her hand stopped him. She lifted up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.

"Remus, I want you to promise me something. If you ever need me again, just call me - I'll find a way to get to you." He knew that she meant if he needed to talk or if he needed the more personal healing that they had just shared. He ducked his head, but nodded once.

"I promise. I also promise that this isn't out of a sense of obligation, but if Harry or Ron still doesn’t take you up on your offer, then call me. I'll do everything I can to take your hurt away, okay?"

She nodded, and then spontaneously hugged him. "Thank you," she whispered into his wet jumper.

He ran a hand down her damp hair. "I should be thanking you, Hermione." He lifted her face and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "'Thank you' seems inadequate, but it will have to do for now." He was surprised by the sudden yawn that overtook him.

She smiled a bit. "Think you'll be all right to sleep?"

"I-" He was about to protest that he wasn't interested in sleeping, but he shut his mouth. The pain had receded a bit, and he realized that he did need to sleep some. "I think I might be able to."

"You don't need the Draught then?"

His lips quirked. "I'd rather dream tonight. I doubt that my nightmares will visit me tonight."

She nodded. "Good night, Remus."

His quirked lips blossomed into the first true smile he'd shown in over a year. "Good night, Hermione."


End file.
